


The Last Laugh

by Ragnelle



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works
Genre: Angst and Humor, Gen, Most Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-19
Updated: 2012-05-19
Packaged: 2017-11-05 15:12:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ragnelle/pseuds/Ragnelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things are not a laughing matter. Aragorn finds out the hard way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Laugh

He had laughed at first, half-mockingly. Valar! He would never do that again. Not ever! Provided, of course, that he survived to keep his promise.

First, first it was only a slight discomfort, a low murmur that could be ignored. He had laughed then. Alas, how he regretted that now. For the murmur did not go away, it grew to a constant pain gnawing at his stomach. He thought it was hunger, but eating only made the cramp worse, and now he was nauseous as well.

Ah, to be able to curl up in a soft, warm bed and shut out the world until the pain went away. But no, he held himself erect, stubbornly refusing to show that it hurt. Besides, he was a warrior; he could not give in to this!

He had not even finished the thought before he wanted to scream! And curse everyone from the Valar down. Why would the pain not go away?

And underneath the nausea lurking at the back of his throat and the insistent gnawing in his belly, he could feel the blood. A steady, even flow that would not stop. Not for days. A bleeding, gaping wound that would not close…

"Enough! By the Valar, enough! No more!"

"Enough? " Her voice mocked him. "Really, my lord? Do you yield? Is there really something the proud Dúnadan can not endure?"

"Yes! I yield. Please Arwen," Aragorn gave in. "Please. I am sorry, just make it stop."

The pain melted away. He took a deep breath, to find her looking at him pointedly.

"I  _am_  sorry, Arwen," he repeated. "I will not jest about it again. I did not know…"

"No," she interrupted him. "You didn't. You still don't. Now imagine that experience repeated for a week every month."

"I don't want to," Aragorn hastily replied. "I don't need to; this was enough. And I do not desire any more knowledge."

"Lucky you."

He could see her eyes soften ever so little. And then he noticed, and for the first time understood, the way she held her arm across her waist. Discreetly cradling her belly…

Ah.

"Come," he said softly. "Lie down for a while and rest."

And he led her to their chambers, and she curled up in their big, soft,  _warm_ , bed, and he tucked the covers around her and kissed her brow.

"Sleep," he said, and tiptoed out the door.

No, he would make sure he did not laugh at the wrong thing again. Not at that time of the month.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank Lialathuveril who has betaed this story for me, it is much better for it. Any mistakes and shortcomings are my own fault.
> 
> Disclaimer: Tolkien owns them all. This is just a silly play on my part.


End file.
